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Dawn echos amongst the birds
so softly they rejoice
and the brook washes away yesturday's troubles.
* * *

HAVOC!
the man-made metal vulture,
swoops from its perch.
The claw graps at the earth.
The ground churns.
Groped, tarnished,
With the deadly scars.
It contracts,
moves on.
the night blanket covers.
©2002-2010 ~-jazzrocket-
:icon-jazzrocket-:

Author's Comments

waaay too much tree killing goes on my friends.

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:iconboxed:
lol.. interesting piece! :) (Smile)

tress cutting is good. stop worrying. would you rather you childrens children die of lack of oxygen - or you have nothing with wood in it!

I KNOW YOU YOU CAPATALIST SOCIOLIST SCUM.

good poem anyways. :) (Smile)
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_// boxed http://boxed.deviantart.com/

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February 25, 2002
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